


Riven

by xoxJumperGirlxox



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 19:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxJumperGirlxox/pseuds/xoxJumperGirlxox
Summary: A deeper look into Elain's thoughts following the events of Hybern and her view towards the future.
Relationships: Elain Archeron & Feyre Archeron & Nesta Archeron, Elain Archeron/Azriel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Riven

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing in a very long time, so hopefully this short piece is not too bad. These characters belong to Sarah J Maas, but they have taken ahold of my heart. Please let me know your thoughts!

All they seem to do is talk. She is surrounded by an endless litany of voices and opinions and fucking feelings. None of which even vaguely reflect her own. No, their minds are made up, the consensus being that she has completely lost hers. Poor, pathetic, weak Elain; someone to be pitied and a perpetual burden to bear. To her sisters, she is as she always has been, somehow, it is inconceivable to think her trauma is valid. She is drowning, no different than Feyre in Spring Court nor Nesta here at Night. They have all been through the same, life altering experience and yet her sisters have reverted to their default, shrouding their issues behind the veil of protecting Elain. She is their beacon of light, if Elain appears happy, blissfully sheltered from their harsh reality, her sisters are given a reprieve from their own bitter truths. And the worst part is she only has herself to blame, she allowed herself to be tucked away like some precious commodity on the top shelf. Elain was broken long before Hybern ever got to her, having chipped away at her soul too many times over the years to fit into the mold her family wished. 

So, Elain continues to play her role, simpering and lamenting over the loss of an equally pathetic man who did not love her enough to choose her. She suffocates under the weight of their concern and hovering, yearns for a moment of solitude that she knows will never come. Her whole life is a violation, not even her mind is her own anymore. The so called “gift” the Cauldron blessed her with is tearing her apart and remaking her in its image. An entity of this world, but not in it. Cursed to see everything they think she is too fragile to know, a never-ending front row seat to every horrible misdeed of the past and future tragedy. Trapped in the proverbial spider’s nest, Elain is but a tiny mosquito doomed to flap her wings without hope of exoneration. Days pass on in the same vein, brief respites of lucidity, and back down the rabbit hole. She murmurs to herself, constantly, trying to make sense of the flashes of images that assault her. No one understands. No one bothers to look. Everyone in her life content to accept her at face value. No one fucking sees her, nor have they ever. Elain eventually pulls herself back together, time being the greatest healing balm against her broken mind. The visions still come, but she is better able to ascertain them for what they are, not so easily lost in their thrall. Her sisters’ relief is palpable, their sense of selves renewed by her relegation back to their status quo. 

They eventually discover peace in their own paths, Feyre in her role of High Lady and Nesta a burgeoning general in her own right. Both blissfully in love with their cauldron blessed mates, whilst Elain continues to do everything in her power to ignore her own. For all intents and purposes Lucien is a good male, one of the best, if Feyre is to be believed. She does not care. Elain refuses to yield even one more inch towards that sadistic cauldron’s fucked up idea of her destiny. Not when her heart is finally finding its rhythm again in this new life, when she finally has people that see her for who she really is and all she could become. Before she may have sought solace in the light, but now she yearns for the comfort of the shadows. Of a pair of sisters who welcomed her without judgment and became more her family than her own. Of a shadowsinger, who saw her when no one else could, believed in her when even her own faith faltered. No cauldron blessed their souls together. Elain is glad for it, for the freedom to bestow her love on someone she deems worthy. With Azriel by her side, when she looks towards the future, she is no longer afraid. Her fate rests in her hands alone, and for the first time in too long, Elain can finally breathe.


End file.
